


The Rose of the Gryffindor, or Hogwarts Love Story

by toroj



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Absurd, F/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 03:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toroj/pseuds/toroj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Terrible results of cauldron explosion during potions lesson. Warning: extreme amounts of pink and absurd. Don't read if you are sober.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rose of the Gryffindor, or Hogwarts Love Story

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Róża Gryffindoru czyli Hogwart Love Story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/568738) by [toroj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toroj/pseuds/toroj). 



**“The Rose of the Gryffindor, or Hogwarts Love Story”**

(by Toroj – I’ve had only two beers…)

 

Translation: Fenix

Beta-reader: Dorothy

 

Draco Malfoy was slowly sneaking up between gorgeous Japanese rose bushes in the garden of Hogwarts. His heart was battering desperately in the cage of his… his ribcage, of course. He felt the first youthful feeling. He loved! He loved! Oh, how much he loved… He was a little stressed by the fact that he didn’t know whom he actually loved, but, all in all, the state itself was even quite pleasant. And for sure it didn’t have anything to do with the thing they inhaled at the Potions lesson today. Anyway, just now, after so many years, Draco realized that old Snape is quite an attractive guy. For a while he even considered writing a romantic sonnet about brewing potions, but then he gave up, because he couldn’t find a rhyme to “a frog’s leg”.

Suddenly, Draco noticed between the roses two well-built feminine fetlocks clothed in a pair of red socks,moreover, one of them was frivolously and most alluringly lowered.

“Did you know, oh fair one, that red is the color of love?“ said Draco tenderly to the sock.

He didn’t get any response, perhaps because the socks aren’t too talkative in general. Malfoy junior looked up, noticing on the way feminine knees (fascinating), a tartan skirt (wonderful), an armful of books (phenomenally angular, library, and so… so very… book-like), and above them the countenance of THAT absolutely exceptional Hermione Granger, which at the moment was movingly tear-stained. Draco’s heart jumped like a frog (to which he couldn’t find a rhyme) and the young man had a revelation. All his heart of hearts, his self, his ego, his soul, as well as the more material utensils like liver and pancreas… and whatever else he had inside, was filled up with HER. It was a beautiful May day of 1996, and the heir of the Malfoys – the family motto: “Draco veritas sapiens aqua minerale” – found the meaning of his life.

Hermione peeped at the boy who was kneeling chivalrously at her feet, after which she burst into tears again, hear-rending sobs coming from the depths of her bosom.

“Beloved!!!” roared Draco, and kissed the rim of the tartan skirt. “Beloved, who has harmed you?”

“I aaaaaaam uuuuuuuuunhaaaaaaaaappyyyyyy…” confessed miss Granger, falling gracefully onto the garden bench, and since the books interfered a bit, she discreetly pushed them aside, and wringed her hands. “Nobody loves me!!”

“I mean, my mom and dad love me,” she added objectively  “and Crookshanks too…

But it is horrible to be the object of a cat’s feeeeeeeeeliiiiiiiiiings… “ she sobbed again.

“I love thee!! “corrected Draco at once, thinking he must have been blind, underestimating virtues of that stunning girl, whom met every day during the meals and the lessons. As a matter of fact, her heritage left much to be desired, but how romantic and sweet it will be to overcome difficulties in the form of the parents’ objections together. And the final of that love epos looked only the more attractive, since it will be preceded by evanescent glances, furtive hand-holding, letters left in school-books, brimming over with passion, and secret meetings in the charming nooks of the Forbidden Forest… well, unless it rains.

“Ron doesn’t understand meeeeeee…“ continued Hermione, delightfully blowing her nose in a handkerchief. “One can only talk with him about that stupid game on the broomsticks…”

For the two seconds the manly ego of the Slytherin seeker was overpowered with indignation, but soon his blue eyes were again misted by uncontrolled passion. 

“He talks about these Cannonsall the time… Let him marry all the team, idiiiiiiioooooooot…” cried Hermione. “And Harry isn’t any better… he steals my lipsticks, moron… and he knows he doesn’t look good in my colors.”

“ Moron,” testified Draco earnestly  “dark haired men should use cherry-red makeup.”

For a while he imagined Potter with his lips covered with cherry-red lipstick, and he felt hot. Or maybe carmine one… No, cherry-red, to match those piercing, light green eyes. And those scars are so manly… Oh, belle piccolo bianco cappuccino!

Malfoy Junior snatched the hand of his lady-love and, since he couldn’t resist any longer, he started to cover it with kisses, systematically heading towards the elbow.

“ Bella! Belissima! Tesco certissimo cuore mio svendita!”

“ I love Italian… “ whispered Hermione “Don’t stop…”

„Pizza ragazza diavolo. Pregare mi dica dove stazione! “ performed Malfoy. “Vinaigrette o la mer, geant cinema mon amour...”

“ French is nice too,” statedthe girl **,** combing his hair with her fingers. “You’ve got beautiful hair. Are you a natural blond?” 

“Si, siniora,“ confirmed Draco earnestly. “I love thee, gryffindor rose, my angel!”

“You’ve got wonderful eyes… and you are SO manly, why haven’t I seen it before?“ wondered Hermione. “Do you have hair on you chest? “ she asked quickly.

Malfoy tried to tear his robe demonstratively, but it was made of an exceptionally good quality fabric, so after struggling with it inefeectively for some time, he decided to unbutton it after all.

“I’ve got hair everywhere… “ he murmured hotly. “ I’m your beast, my lioness. I am a shaggy snake…”

“God almighty! What is this nonsense?! “ yelled professor McGonagall, standing behind them. “ What is going on in here?! Granger! Malfoy!”  

“ I love her “ announced Draco with power (still kneeling). “She is my only love. My muse, my dove, my peace and war, death, famine and pestilence…“ he felt that his declaration was not heading quite where it should, so he pointed his finger at the Deputy Headmistress accusingly. “Off with thee, old woman! Do not harass the lovers, who in the orchard lay their heads on the flowery bed! For we shall make peace between the Lion and the Serpent!”

“That is? “ asked McGonagall with icy composure.

“ I shall marry her, “ explained Draco.

“ Si,” said Hermione affectionately, kissing his ear.

“We shall see about that,” said the professor ominously, pointing her wand towards Malfoy. “Stupefy!”

Two minutes later, she was levitating the stunned boy to hospital, holding him vigorously by the collar. Hermione paced after them, sobbing in despair,  trying to rend her garments and strew her head with ash, which was difficult because of the idiotic cleanness, which reigned in the paved yard.  

*

“Are you able to explain it to me why all the fifth-years from Gyffindor and Slytherin are acting as if they took part in a drug orgy?” raged and fumed Deputy Headmistress, strolling to and fro before the Potion Master’s desk.. “I found the youngest Weasley proposing to the portrait near the tower entrance. Potter and Zabini came to blows over Parkinson’s favours, and I caught Malfoy in the garden chasing after Granger! They say something has happened during the Potions lesson, Severus.”

Snape followed her with misty eyes.

“Oh, nothing special”  he said with a mild smile. “Longbotton has blown up his cauldron, as usual, and besides that nothing happened. Do you know that you look exceptionally good in green, Minerva?”

McGonagall stood still as a waxwork. Snape advanced from behind the desk with the grace of a black leopard.

“I have always considered you fascinating, Minerrrrrrrrva… “ he murmured like a giant tomcat.

With an admirable presence of mind the Transfiguration professor snatched up a heavy volume of _Die mittelalterlich Elixier_ from the table, and bashed Snape over the head. Before he managed to pick himself up from the floor, he was already imprisoned by magical ropes.

“This is just for your own good, Severus “ ensured him McGonagall.

“ So fair and yet so cruel… “ said Snape, still smiling idyllically. “Torture me, my goddess! I am your slave. Punish me with flogging!”

“Shut up, Sev!”

“How can I be silent, when my soul howls with yearning!? Meine Göttin der Liebe! Der grüne Diamant! Let’s give vent to our feelings, schöne Hexe!”

McGonagall perspicaciously evacuated herself from the room, chased with passionate cries in German. She came across Albus Dumbledore in the dungeon’s corridor.

“The situation upstairs is moderately under control, I suppose” the Headmaster notified her. “Poppy gave a calming potion to the most endangered people. Harry and Zabini are still arguing, but now the argument is over a hamster, so it took a turn for the better, I guess.”

He looked at the Professor thoughtfully.

“Have I ever told you that you have beautiful eyes, Minerva?”

McGonagall clutched at his sleeve without a word, and pulled him out upstairs by force, after which, with two well-chosen spells, she conjured up by the entrance a huge warning-board with an inscription:

THE ZONE OF MAGICAL POLLUTION. NO ADMITTANCE UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

 

The End

 

 


End file.
